


Fireworks

by Fandoms_Are_Life37



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America's into it I promise, Angst and Porn, Angst and Smut, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Alfred, Bottom America (Hetalia), Boys Kissing, But it leads to smut so whatever, Come Swallowing, Drunk Sex, Edgeplay, England gets sick around the fourth of July, England's still not over the revolutionary war, Explicit Language, Forced Orgasm, Fourth of July, Hand Jobs, It's consensual, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild S&M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Seme Arthur, Seme England, Sick England (Hetalia), Smut, Top Arthur, Top England (Hetalia), UKUS, Uke Alfred, Uke America, Yaoi, very mild, very mildly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24632386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_Are_Life37/pseuds/Fandoms_Are_Life37
Summary: England gets depressed every time the 4th of July comes around while America throws a massive party. This year, though, America checks up on him and England decides to give him a special birthday present.
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia), America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 79





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Word count: 3,172
> 
> Estimated read time: 17 minutes 30 seconds.
> 
> Warnings: Angst, language, sexual content

Arthur stared up at the ceiling from the couch, eyes roaming over each ridge of it. It wasn't like he had anything better to do on the Fourth of July.

Technically, he could go to Alfred's party. He'd received the invitation a couple of days ago, but just like every year, he tossed it in the trash. The last thing he needed was another tangible reminder of the days when Alfred was his and when he lost him.

The clock ticked rhythmically, each second feeling like an hour. Arthur had dismissed his house staff and even told his territories like Anguilla, the British Virgin Islands, and the Cayman Islands to leave. This was the one day per year that he needed to himself so he could complete his annual routine: lay around, get drunk, cry, lay around more, get drunker, cry more, and get even drunker.

Arthur grabbed the bottle from beside the couch, determined to turn his blood to alcohol so that he could let his feelings slip away.

*************

"America! Japan is here!"

Alfred dashed down the stairs and grinned at his cousin. "Thanks, Puerto Rico!"

She held the door open so that Kiku could come in. He bowed slightly and handed Alfred a neat package. "Happy Birthday."

"Thanks, dude!" He tore open the paper and gasped when he pulled out a mug with his flag printed on the side. "That's awesome!"

An excited mop of blond hair swung inside and embraced Alfred, nearly knocking the mug out of his hand. "America, mon amie! Happy birthday!"

"Hey, France!" Alfred greeted, setting the mug down so he could hug him back without dropping it. "What's up?"

Francis pulled back, smiling. "I'm very excited about your party."

"Well, it is the best party ever, so that's no surprise. Come on in, there are snacks!"

*************

"Canada!" Hercules called, pushing through the crowd to reach him. He finally squished past Lovino and Antonio, who were standing close and talking, to smile at Matthew. "Hello."

"Hello, Greece. How are you?"

"I'm good. But, I'm worried about America."

Matthew hummed in confusion. "What?"

"Well, he's acting normal but... something feels off. Is there something wrong?" Hercules asked in quiet concern.

Matthew sighed. "It's just England. This happens every year. He always invites him and he never comes. Scotland says that he stays home and gets drunk. Either way, it makes America sad. Sometimes I wish England just sucked it up and came, but knowing how England gets when he's down, they'd probably end up fighting. That'd be worse."

Hercules looked over at Alfred, who was getting his sixth hotdog from the grill. "That's sad."

"Yeah. The best thing to do is to keep him distracted. Don't worry, it's getting pretty dark. The fireworks will start soon and he'll forget all about England."

"America certainly does like blowing things up."

Matthew laughed lightly. "Yes, he does."

As if on cue, Alfred sprang up, swallowing the last of his hotdog and shouting, "Firework time!"

Each year, Yao handled the fireworks. He'd bring a bunch of them and then he'd bite his nails while Alfred played with the explosives. This time was no exception. The large wagon was pulled out and Alfred pulled out the first firework, lighting it and running back.

It shot up into the sky and burst, showering red sparks. The crowd oohed and ahhed in delight. Most of the other countries weren't pyromaniacs and therefore didn't watch fireworks very often.

The show lasted around an hour and a half with each firework bigger than the last. Kiku and Hercules sat side by side, not looking at each other but both blushing.

Feliciano would smack Ludwig and squeal, "Did you see that?"

To which Ludwig replied, "Yes, Italy, I saw it. You don't have to ask me every time!"

Lovino and Antonio leaned against one another, but when Gilbert pointed it out, Lovino decked him to shut him up.

Ivan patted Yao's shoulder with a smile whenever he flinched from Alfred's dangerous handling of fireworks, saying, "There, there."

Francis chatted with Matthew, fetching him snacks whenever he wanted any and making him laugh.

The Nordic and Baltic States all clumped together, drinking and shouting their approval of the show, aside from Emil, who kept popping Advil for a massive headache.

Sadik mostly caused even more chaos than was already occurring.

Jett and Christop Kirkland ignored the firework show, opting to sit by the pool with Carlos and splash each other instead.

Peter, in true Sealandic fashion, ran around, cheering, jumping, and waving around the United States flag, despite being a completely separate "country." Wy rolled her eyes and watched him with a judgmental expression.

When they were out of fireworks (much to Alfred's dismay and Yao's relief), there was some more chatter and snacks before people started drifting out and the party ended.

Matthew stayed behind to help his brother clean up from the event, folding up chairs and throwing away napkins that were on the grass.

"America?"

He glanced up from tossing some empty cookie packages in the trash. "Yeah?"

"Happy birthday."

With a faint smile, he replied, "Thanks, Canada."

*************

Arthur's sobs slowed as he took another swig of rum, sending a jolt down his spine. Half-heartedly, he put the bottle down and wiped away the tears.

"Fuck you, America," he said aloud, voice cracking.

*************

"Maybe you should go check on England," Matthew suggested

He furrowed his brow. "Check on him?"

"To make sure he hasn't drunk himself to death yet."

"Why would he have done that?"

Matthew sighed. "Don't tell me you don't know why he skips your party every year."

Alfred set down his broom, giving Matthew his full attention. "I don't."

"He's upset," Matthew told him, "He misses you. Scotland told me that he always gets super drunk, cries, and goes to bed on the fourth. The only reason he skips is that he can't bear to see you. I mean, this is kind of a holiday about when you left him."

"No, it's not, it's about me becoming my own country. It has nothing to do with England. He just happens to be part of that situation."

"I know. But I'm not sure he does. And even if he does, it still hurts him to remember this day. Kind of like how you get upset on September eleventh, January 28th, April 18th, February first, August 23rd, and April 14th. Or like when Japan takes the day off on August sixth and ninth, Italy gets sad on August 18th, China is depressed on May 30th, or Ukraine is distant around April 25th. You know I retreat on September 9th and December 6th."

"Yeah, I get it. You don't have to keep listing depressing dates."

Matthew patted him on the shoulder. "Just don't take it personally."

He nodded. "Okay. Do you really think I should check on him or will that just make it worse? I don't want to cause him any more pain than I already have."

"If it were me, I'd want to see you."

"You're right. Thanks, dude!" Alfred chimed, dashing off, leaving Matthew alone and confused in his backyard, still holding a broom.

*************

Arthur gulped down more of his drink, sprawled on the couch like a madman. He wore a scowl as he thought about the day that he received the Declaration of Independence in the mail. That was probably one of the shittiest days of his life.

The doorknob jiggled and he heard it open before shutting. Arthur glared at the ceiling. "I swear to god, Falkland, if that's you, I'll kill you. I said I wanted to be left alone."

The Falkland Islands never showed. Instead, Alfred stepped into the parlor, cringing at the stench of alcohol. "Oh god, Iggy."

Arthur sat up, tossing his bottle to the side. "What are you doing here?"

"I, well, uh, Canada said I should probably check in on you. He said you'd be... um, upset. Guess he was right."

"Get out of my house. I don't want to see you," Arthur growled, flopping back on the couch.

"Normally, I'd respect that, but this... you are a mess. You need help. If I leave now and find out tomorrow that you choked to death on your own vomit because you were so drunk off your ass, I'll feel like a bad person. Besides, I'm a hero. It's my duty to take care of you."

"Shut up and get out."

"No," Alfred said firmly, shrugging off his number fifty jacket and going over to where Arthur lay, pulling him into an upright position.

He growled and wrenched his wrist out of Alfred's grasp. "Leave me alone."

"I already said I can't do that. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, but no matter what you choose, you're going to end up upstairs and in new clothes, because you're covered in... is that rum?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Nothing. Now, will you cooperate?"

He rolled his eyes and glared daggers at him, but didn't protest when Alfred tried to get him to his feet. Unfortunately, he was a little too unsteady for walking and quickly slid toward the floor. Alfred caught him in time, lifted him up, and carried him toward the stairs.

"Put me down!" He said in a drunken slur.

Alfred didn't acknowledge him, just climbed the stairs and took Arthur to the bathroom, setting him down on the toilet's lid and sighing. "Okay, stay there."

"Whatever."

Alfred went to the cabinet and opened it. The wipes were on the top shelf, so he grabbed them and went back to Arthur, wiping sweat from his brow and a few drops of rum from his lips before tossing them in the trash and going into Arthur's bedroom. He pulled open the chest of drawers, pulling out some pajamas and setting them on the bed.

"England, come on," he said, pulling him up from the toilet and leading him into the bedroom. This time, thankfully, he seemed to have remembered how to walk. He sat Arthur back down on the bed and grabbed the pajamas.

"Here," he said, handing them to Arthur and sitting down on the bed beside him.

A smirk crept up on Arthur's face. "I think you'll have to do it for me, love. I'm a bit too drunk."

Alfred's cheeks flushed. "Haha, very funny."

"No, I'm serious." Before Alfred could refuse, he added, "You're the hero, aren't you? Then help me out."

Arthur leaned in closer and Alfred felt his face get redder from the close proximity. He'd seen Arthur drunk plenty of times. But this was different. Sure, he tended to have less regard for personal space when he was drunk, but he was never so... seductive.

His eyes flickered to Arthur's hand, realizing he still had a half-full bottle of rum in his hand. "Iggy, seriously? You've had way too much to drink already. Here, I'll take it."

Arthur pulled back from Alfred, taking another swig from the bottle. "No."

"You shouldn't be doing this! You're destroying your liver. Give it," Alfred commanded, grabbing the bottle, but Arthur held on tight.

"Let go!" He protested, trying to pull it back.

"No, this isn't good for you."

Arthur pulled harder, making Alfred's face come withing just inches of his own, hissing. "I do what I want, America. Now let go."

"Look, I get you're upset, but-"

He was cut off when Arthur successfully yanked the bottle away from him and tossed it somewhere across the room. Alfred thought he heard it break, but he wasn't sure because Arthur pushed him back on the bed, which was very distracting.

"H- Hey! What are you doing?" He asked.

Arthur smirked. "Shut up."

Alfred wiggled to try to get away but quickly realized that only made it worse when Arthur let out a pleasured sigh.

"England, wh-"

Arthur grabbed his cheeks, holding his head in place and gesturing to a forming erection. "You did this, America. Now you need to take responsibility for your actions."

Alfred's pulse quickened and he felt his heart skip a beat. "Yeah, that's h- hilarious. You got me!"

"Oh, I'm not joking, love," Arthur purred, grabbing Alfred's wrists and pressing them into the mattress. "Consider this making up for your silly revolution."

"I- mmph!"

Before Alfred could protest, Arthur pressed his lips against the American's, slipping his tongue in and easily dominating Alfred since he was taken off guard. Drunkenly, Arthur's mouth moved from Alfred's to his jaw, biting hard.

"Ah! Ow!" Alfred yelped when Arthur's teeth sank into his flesh particularly deep. "Iggy t- that hurts."

"You know what else hurt? You declaring independence. So shut up and take it," Arthur growled dangerously.

The edge in his voice was causing Alfred's pants to feel tighter against his growing erection. "Wait-"

Arthur kissed him again, pulling on his lip and biting just hard enough to draw some blood. Alfred whined but didn't tell him to stop as Arthur yanked off his tie, binding his wrists together. Soon, Arthur was undoing the buttons on Alfred's shirt and ravishing his chest. Each nipple became swollen under Arthur's tongue and teeth and Alfred found himself trying to contain sounds of pleasure.

Arthur made quick work of Alfred's zipper, tugging off his pants and underwear before he could blink. Then he leaned over Alfred, pressing one denim-clad knee between his legs and attacking his neck.

"Oh, England..." Alfred gasped as he ground on Arthur's knee.

A devilish idea crossed Arthur's mind and he decided that he was going to make Alfred come without even touching him. He'd let Alfred press himself against his knee for feeling while he marked his neck and he'd unravel from just that.

Arthur began his plan, licking at Alfred's earlobe and nipping at it. Alfred whined when Arthur's fingers traveled down his sides, kneading his skin. The contrast in their apparel turned him on more than he cared to admit. There was something vulnerable and erotic about being tied up and fully exposed while Arthur still had all his clothes on.

Alfred's hips bucked and he pressed his hardon against Arthur's knee, gasping, "I- Iggy, please..."

But Arthur didn't indulge him. He let Alfred pant and sweat, rubbing himself against his jeans, desperate for friction on his painful and red erection.

It didn't take Alfred long to catch onto what Arthur was doing, so he began humping his leg harder, knowing it was the only way his cock would get any attention. His sensitive skin rubbed against the rough denim faster and faster and his body began to shake.

One more thrust when the head of his cock brushed over the cold button on Arthur's jeans and Alfred was spilling, moaning Arthur's name.

Arthur admired Alfred's pink skin and bleeding lip, satisfied that he had brought him to orgasm without even touching his cock.

"Was that good, love?"

"Y- Yes, but England, I need more. I need you."

He smirked. "Sorry, but not tonight. I'm too drunk to fuck you properly."

Alfred's eyes widened. "What?"

"Don't worry, I'll still indulge you. Let's see how many times I can make you come before your body is completely wrecked."

"But-"

Arthur's hand moved down to grab Alfred's cock firmly. He gasped and moved closer for more contact as Arthur's hand pumped up and down, making him hard again. His pace quickened and Alfred groaned when his thumb swiped over the head.

"Ugh..."

Arthur smirked, moving faster. He'd make round two brief. And brief it was. It was barely any time at all before Alfred was unraveling again, spouting over Arthur's hand.

Seductively, Arthur lapped up the cum from his hand. "Mmm. That's two. I'm sure you can make it to at least three."

Alfred felt a bit light-headed, but he nodded enthusiastically. Anything for Arthur to touch him again.

This time, Arthur lifted Alfred's hips and began to lick his cock. Alfred groaned as Arthur coaxed his erection back up again. Once he was hard for the third time, Arthur took Alfred's member into his mouth fully, bobbing and sucking.

He drew it out more, adoring how Alfred whined, gasped, and shook in response to how he moved his tongue. His muscle fondled Alfred's slit since he quickly realized that was where he was most sensitive. Each time he felt Alfred start to twitch, he took his mouth off and kissed at his hips instead before returning to his task.

"England, ah- I, oh... please let me come!" He begged, fingers digging crescents into his palms from the pleasure.

"Alright, go on," Arthur said, granting him permission while sucking as hard as he could.

Alfred hit his peak and released into Arthur's mouth. He swallowed it all and licked his lips. "Just as delicious as before. I want to taste it again."

Alfred's whole body was tingling and he was gasping for air. "I- I can't do four..."

"Sure you can."

"N- No, I can't, England... I can't take four..."

"You can and you will," Arthur commanded before sucking again.

He cried out, not sure if his stamina would hold. His cock almost hurt from how overwhelmed it was with pleasure.

Arthur sucked and sucked, pressing kisses to the head each time he reached the top. This was the fastest Alfred came. His whole body shook and he shouted as he did, crying out Arthur's name.

"Good boy," Arthur cooed.

Alfred sighed, releasing uneven breaths. "Ugh..."

"Hmm."

"W- What?"

"I'm trying to decide if I should do it again."

Alfred's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "Again? There's- there's no way I can come a fifth time."

Arthur shrugged. "Yes, but you can still speak, which means you're not completely untapped."

"England, I can't come a fifth time."

"Let's test that theory."

"England! I-"

Once again, he was reduced to loud groans when Arthur prompted his cock again. It took more time to get him hard, but he was able to work up a throbbing erection.

Like the evil little shit he is, Arthur edged him again, twice. It was pure torture, but finally, finally, Alfred felt himself approach climax and Arthur didn't move back.

His head pounded, he could barely breathe, his back arched, he was quaking, and he saw stars when he orgasmed for the fifth time. It was as explosive as the fireworks he had set off only hours ago.

"ENGLAND!" He screamed.

Arthur chuckled and swallowed the semen, letting Alfred's hips fall back on the bed. He had shut eyes and a heaving chest.

"Five times. That's a fantastic record."

Alfred wasn't able to reply and that was how Arthur knew his job was done. He let Alfred lay there and try to regain his composure while he reached into his own pants and pulled out his cock. He stroked himself, eyes wandering over Alfred's pink skin and trembling legs until he, too, came.

Arthur flopped down on the bed next to Alfred, grinning over at him. "Happy birthday, America."


End file.
